


Crack the Shutters

by aestaeticism



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Apparent unrequited love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, HospitalAU (almost), M/M, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 12:12:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11967132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestaeticism/pseuds/aestaeticism
Summary: Chanyeol and Baekhyun have been in a non-relationship for more than a year. They cuddle, and kiss, and care for each other. They could be boyfriends, except that they're not.





	1. Prologue: 'Cause the daylight seems to want you - just as much as I want you

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this fic as a short one-shot of Baekhyun and Chanyeol cuddling in bed. Somehow it turned out to be something a bit more elaborate. However, as you'll see, the prologue is still readable as a standalone. 
> 
> • The prologue itself and the title of the fic are inspired by Snow Patrol's Crack the Shutters -it's a great song, go listen to it!  
> • Chanyeol's character is vaguely inspired by HIMYM Ted Mosby. Baekhyun's incapacity of showing his feelings is a vague reference to Grey's Anatomy's Meredith Grey. All of this wasn't intentional, but that's how the fic wrote itself LOL
> 
> Thank you so much to my personal thesaurus & beta noonaofdarkness for dealing with all of the commas I'd vomited into this fic. She made it into something more readable for all of you to enjoy.
> 
> Hopefully you like it!

Chanyeol cracks one eye open, still not completely awake, the slumber lingering on his eyelids as the daylight, filtered through the shutters, blinds him. He shuffles a bit. Then he turns, hiding his face in the warmth of the body spooning him with a groan -his hand sliding under Baekhyun's t-shirt. Baekhyun's body molds around his like water, unconsciously adjusting himself so that Chanyeol's legs can tangle with his, and his nose can fit just perfectly against Baekhyun's pulse. Chanyeol's breath is slightly cold. Baekhyun shivers and Chanyeol sighs, content, but not exactly aware of what's going on yet when Baekhyun buries his fingers in his hair and mumbles, "Sleep." 

Baekhyun smells like _Baekhyun_ : like laundry detergent and something that is distinctly Baekhyun's that Chanyeol can't quite pinpoint— and sweat, since he tends to overheat at night and sleep with one leg locked with Chanyeol's, the other dangling down the side of the bed. He's much more of a hugger than he likes to be hugged— he always blabbers excuses about how he feels like Chanyeol is crushing him, being big and tall and shit like that. And Chanyeol doesn't mind staying like this, with Baekhyun fingers absentmindedly carding through his hair, an automatic gesture.

Spring sunlight is warm, burning almost, on Chanyeol's back— damn Baekhyun and his obsession with windows and having a sunlit house. His lips brush against Baekhyun's neck, only to feel him go tense, then incredibly soft around him. He cracks a smile, directly on his skin and Baekhyun shivers once more. His arm wraps around Chanyeol's head, pulling him closer. "Sleep.." He murmurs again, slurred. 

 

Chanyeol only half sees Baekhyun cooling down his bedwarm hands on the broken radiator by the window, wearing nothing but one of Chanyeol's t-shirts. It hikes up his hip, as he scratches his lower back and yawns, wide, relaxed. He doesn't bother covering his mouth or anything, it's Baekhyun, he never does anyway. Chanyeol's eyes linger for a moment on the small drop of orangey red on the side of Baekhyun's thigh - just under the curve of his butt, as he likes to describe it. It's a goldfish; small, extremely realistic. 

Baekhyun had cried, positively crushing Chanyeol's hand as Kyungsoo's steady hand made sure the needle and the color went exactly where they were supposed to be. 

Chanyeol closes his eyes, his hand blindly searching for the warm spot where Baekhyun was lying just a moment before. Burying his nose in Baekhyun's pillow is not the same thing as melting in his arms, but Chanyeol is not one to complain, plus the whole bed smells like Baekhyun more than it smells like him.

He dozes off, waking up with a jolt with yet another groan, as Baekhyun lays his freezing hands under his shirt. "..Can't you wake me later?" Chanyeol mumbles, his words all jumbled up, and yet he's the one enclosing Baekhyun's hands with his, stopping them on his ribcage. He doesn't really want Baekhyun to stop, and Baekhyun knows that. 

He knows, because he leans in. Kneeling next to Chanyeol, he frees his hands from his grip so that he can run them, agonizingly slow, from his back to his chest with a breathy laugh. 

_Toothpaste_ , Chanyeol immediately thinks. 

"No..." Baekhyun says, nuzzling his nose to the side of Chanyeol's, his lips soft as he whispers. "I know you're awake." His smile somehow transfers to his voice, to his words as he kisses the side of Chanyeol's nose, just to annoy him. 

"Fuck, Hyun," Chanyeol mumbles, his voice much deeper than usual, as his hands search for Baekhyun's wrists, circle them, then he drags his palm down Baekhyun's forearm. "What's the time?" He turns his face slightly, to blindly press his lips against Baekhyun's cheek, right when his mole is. He doesn't need to see, he knows it's there. He opens his mouth to gently bite Baekhyun’s cheek, and Baekhyun’s going all tense again. 

"You're an idiot." Baekhyun says, with no resentment in his voice, really, and he doesn't stop Chanyeol from searching for his lips, brushing his own along Baekhyun's jaw, softly.

"What's the time?" Chanyeol murmurs, again. He doesn't give Baekhyun enough time to answer. He kisses him, his tongue running along the seam of his lips. It's wet, sloppy and Baekhyun bites on Chanyeol's tongue slightly when he tries to slide it into his mouth, only to have him chuckle. He can feel Baekhyun smile in the kiss as well, and it's more than he can handle, his heart beats faster. "Hyun.." He calls, feeding words against Baekhyun's lips, and Baekhyun scrambles to half lie on him, half straddle his hips. 

Baekhyun loves to kiss with his lips more than his tongue. His kisses are languid, warm against Chanyeol's lips. There's no hurry to them, there's no goal in them other than kissing. Chanyeol's hand runs along the side of Baekhyun's thigh, hesitates where his tattoo is, before palming the curve of his ass. Baekhyun's kiss seems to stutter. "It's ... " 

He breathes in. "Six thirty." He manages, and it's Chanyeol's turn to smile now.

His eyes flutter open as he sits up, his elbow as leverage, pulling Baekhyun up with him. He doesn't stop caressing Baekhyun's side, drawing circles on the goldfish tattoo. The daylight creates patterns and shadows on Baekhyun's skin, sun rays tangle up his body. 

He has freckles on his cheekbones. It's just a few, but they're definitely there, no matter how many times Baekhyun repeats he doesn't have any freckles. His body is covered in moles, small ink dots scattered here and there like constellations. He even has one under his foot, one behind his ear, a couple well hidden on his very inner thigh. Chanyeol had tried to map them once, connecting them all, and he would've made it if Baekhyun hadn't proposed to play tic tac toe on Chanyeol's tummy instead.

"Why did you wake me up so early?" He's stares, more like gazes at him and he’s sure Baekhyun can see it, how fond of him Chanyeol is. Baekhyun's fingers trace imaginary lines on his chest. Chanyeol sits up properly, one hand brushing Baekhyun's hair back. It's gotten too long again, he could almost tie it in the back. Baekhyun leans in after that, slowly, until his cheek is resting on Chanyeol's shoulder. Chanyeol feels it, the tension leaving Baekhyun’s body gradually. He feels Baekhyun lips lazily suck onto his skin, more to feel Chanyeol go rigid, than to leave a mark. "Wanna do it again?" Chanyeol proposes, his voice low, craning his head to the side to brush his lips against Baekhyun's temple.

Baekhyun shakes his head, yet his fingers stop in the center of Chanyeol's chest, where his bones juts out just a tiny bit more. Chanyeol always wonders how Baekhyun doesn't find him extremely uncomfortable to cuddle with, since he's all bony, lanky limbs. 

"I wouldn't complain." He admits. "But I couldn't sleep, that's all." He adds.

"Want to sleep now?" Chanyeol asks, belatedly, as he moves to rest his back against the headboard. Baekhyun is warm, even though Chanyeol would much prefer skin to skin contact rather than the fabric of his t-shirt hugging Baekhyun's torso. He tugs at it just slightly, and Baekhyun gets the hint, as he always does, helping Chanyeol with peeling it off for him. 

Baekhyun's just as fast to press himself against the other, fingers buried in the hair at Chanyeol's nape. "I want to kiss you." He says suddenly, with a full body shiver when Chanyeol slightly pinches at the goldfish on his thigh. Baekhyun breathes words right against Chanyeol's collarbones. "I want to hold you," he adds after a while, and that's enough for Chanyeol to gently push him back, despite the confused look on his face. 

"I'd like that,” Chanyeol agrees as he lets himself slide down the headboard to lie down sideways, Baekhyun straddling him. He runs one of his hands down Baekhyun's thighs, then up his hips, "Kiss me." He murmurs, his fingertips tracing the shape of Baekhyun's lips. "Hold me." He pauses. "I like it when you want me." He admits and Baekhyun smiles, coy, his eyes form crescents when he does.

Chanyeol is still drowsy when Baekhyun comes down to kiss him, his fingers hooking on the band of Chanyeol's boxers. He gasps weakly when he peels them off and moans, directly into Baekhyun's mouth and gives in to him. Baekhyun's hands hitching one of Chanyeol's legs up on his hip as he moves, languid, slow as his kiss. 

"Yeol," he calls. He's a mess, his fringe sticking to his forehead, all flushed. "Yeol look at me, " he almost begs pensively looking at Chanyeol.

Chanyeol does just that and swipes Baekhyun's fringe away from his face. "Don't talk." He says, and doesn't stop to think about what Baekhyun is really seeing, as he hooks his other leg around him, pushing him deeper. 

 

The clock reads eight thirty, the sun high enough in the sky for Chanyeol to close the blinds, the room having become too bright for them to nap a little more. "Hyun?" He mumbles, as his hands roam on Baekhyun's tummy, stop on his bony hip. He's lost so much weight lately. Chanyeol has kept the blinds open just a little, so that if daylight seeps through, it can keep Baekhyun warm. 

Baekhyun whimpers a "Yeah?" and he doesn't bother turning Chanyeol's way, not even when the other kisses his nape, long, sweet. He pushes back until he's flush against Chanyeol, though, effectively letting Chanyeol curl around him. He squints, when the light hits his face, and Chanyeol covers his eyes with his palm.   
"Nothing." he says, and he regrets it once more.


	2. Did you said it? I love you.

Baekhyun leaves. He always does, no matter how rainy the day is, how cold it is outside. Sometimes he borrows Chanyeol's clothes, his hoodies, his pants -he doesn't really care that the pants never fit. Chanyeol doesn't have it in him to send Baekhyun off most of the time. He'd probably pull him into his arms and keep him there forever, especially when Baekhyun is a sniffling mess from his spring allergy and all his antihistamine tablets do is make him all groggy and fuzzy.

They've had those moments, Chanyeol's head on Baekhyun's belly on a rainy afternoon— Chanyeol despises the rain, Baekhyun positively hates thunderstorms— hugging his hips, talking into his skin about how hard work is, how frustrating his parents are, about how much he likes to talk to him. Sometimes Chanyeol finds Baekhyun staring at him, the shadow of a stupid smile on his lips. He looks at Chanyeol as if he wants to say something more, as if he's holding back. Chanyeol never asks, he knows it's forbidden territory, but he'll never be able to shake off that restlessness that comes when Baekhyun disappears for a week or two and doesn't take his calls.

He comes back, he always does— and no matter how many times Sehun reminds Chanyeol how much of an idiot he is, he's too smitten to just tell Baekhyun not to call him anymore. He tries to, really does. But before Chanyeol can realize what’s going on, Baekhyun is already in his officetel, distractedly discarding his top and bottom in favor of something that is Chanyeol's. Then he tiptoes until he can kiss away whatever proposition Chanyeol had. 

Sehun is not so wrong when he says Chanyeol is an idiot, but he also knows Baekhyun, which is why he doesn't stir Chanyeol up too much. Baekhyun is a charmer and Chanyeol is wrapped around his finger. 

 

Chanyeol's officetel is not big, but he paid enough key money to get one with a huge window so big it takes a good portion of the wall next to the bed. It's Chanyeol who chose it, Chanyeol who can't sleep well in a place that isn't completely dark. Every single morning he's woken up by the first lights of dawn, and it's nice if it happens when Baekhyun is next to him, literally bathing in daylight; his black hair tied up in a ponytail, more often than not all curled up in the duvet with his back to Chanyeol's chest.

It's rainy today, and Baekhyun hasn't showed up on Chanyeol's doorstep for a week. The bed feels oddly cold, the house too silent. Chanyeol scrolls through his kakao talk chat absentmindedly. Baekhyun’s changed his picture to one of him hugging Mongryong. He's kissing its head so the lower part of his face is partially covered, but his smile shows through the shape his eyes make when he laughs. It's cute. He looks soft, happy. Chanyeol tosses his phone to the side, hugs Baekhyun's pillow and breathes in.

 

Chanyeol works as an architect for a relatively famous firm in Seocho-gu.  
Twenty eight employees, all too busy trying to kiss asses to the top of the food chain, and a boss who doesn't listen to Chanyeol. His ideas have been brushed off as too innovative, not innovative enough, _I'm not even sure what you were trying to do here_ , and at some point Chanyeol has stopped trying. He's still quite successful with private clients, especially young couples moving to the countryside.

The office is big, with cubicles one next to the other. The steel framework of the open, industrial ceiling, is kind of depressing. As is the small succulent in the corner of Chanyeol's desk. Green, but not really helping with the dull atmosphere.

"Who is this for?" Jongdae asks, leaning against Chanyeol's desk. Chanyeol's eyes drag from Jongdae's fingers holding an americano to his perfect attire and styled hair. His kittenish smile never lets out more than Jongdae wants to show.

"Nobody in particular. Just sketching," Chanyeol mumbles back unfazed, but he's fast to scramble around, not so accidentally shifting a pile of paperwork directly over the piece of paper. He hopes it's enough to get Jongdae's attention away from it, but it's obviously not.

"It was good though. Is it a new client? The Chois from Andong?" Jongdae uses his arm as leverage, ends up half sitting on Chanyeol's desk as he slips the sketch out from under the pile. Chanyeol's attempt was obviously vane.

"It's not for a client, 'Dae," he starts, combing through his hair with his hand."It's just a sketch, I told you." He reaches up to snatch it away, and Jongdae lifts his arm out of reach.

Chanyeol is tall but definitely not invested enough at the moment. And to be completely honest he wouldn't mind Jongdae's opinion on the project. 

"Is this an attic?" 

"It is. In Yongsangu," he replies shyly. He cranes his head a little, trying to catch something in Jongdae's expression. His eyes flicker with interest as he scans through the paper.

"It must be a pain in the ass to fall asleep in here. Windows on every side? Really?" He asks, then he takes a sip of his coffee, pensive. "I'd leave the sides as walls. Brick walls."

"This person likes the sun." Chanyeol replies with caution. Jongdae's projects are always brilliant, he manages to snatch the best clients— and the boss lets him, because he knows how good Jongdae is. 

"As much as they like the sun, I reckon they'll want to sleep. Or maybe have some privacy, you know. Windows on three sides... Is this for a woman?"

"Nope. And has anybody told you that you ask too many questions, 'Dae?" He stands up, managing this one time to grab the piece of paper away. 

Jongdae chuckles, raising both hands to feign innocence. "Nobody ever." His freshly done blonde hair makes him look a lot younger than his 28 years. 

"Bullshit. I would be filthy rich if I had 1000 won for every time _I_ told you." Chanyeol carefully lays the paper on the surface of his desk, then proceeds to cover the corners with more papers and manila folders. 

"So this is not for work."

Chanyeol shakes his head slightly, glancing at the clean lines of the blueprint. "It's not for work." He confirms. Jongdae doesn't ask, but Chanyeol can see the question lingering on the shape of his lips.

_For who, then?_

 

Keeping their relationship a secret is a mutual decision, or so Chanyeol keeps telling himself. Truthfully, he'd just agreed to what Baekhyun had proposed, back when they'd started whatever their relationship is. Baekhyun is everywhere. He's in the socks he leaves to hang on Chanyeol's drying rack when it's raining outside and his shoes are all soaked; he's in the extra toothbrush in the bathroom; the condom box in the drawer. He's even in the white scrub he's left in Chanyeol's laundry basket last month after complaining about how much he'd sweated in it. 

Sometimes Chanyeol takes comfort in the little things Baekhyun has left behind. Other times, he feels like he's suffocating. He couldn't get rid of all this Baekhyun even if he wanted to. And if he really wanted to get rid of him, where would he start? Where does what's Baekhyun's end and what's Chanyeol's begin?

 

Chanyeol pushes the question away.

 

"Want some kimchi jjigae today?" Baekhyun looks so familiar in Chanyeol's apartment. He belongs there— on the bed, all curled up near the window, sprawled on the floor drinking in all the sunlight. Where he doesn't belong, though, is in the kitchen— unless he's rummaging through Chanyeol's leftovers or trying to make rice for breakfast.

"You don't know how to make that, Hyun," Chanyeol points out with a weak smile. He walks up to him, only to lazily circle his waist with his arms. He rests his forehead on Baekhyun's shoulder. Baekhyun is too thin, yet solid at the same time.

"I do. It's not that difficult with instant food," Baekhyun says, cutting open a bag with pre cooked kimchi stew. "All you need to do is warm this up and eat it with the rice, he explains, as if he hasn't been eating Chanyeol's food for the last year whenever he comes back from his shift at the hospital. 

Chanyeol kisses a smile on the fabric of the t-shirt Baekhyun is wearing. It's one of his. Why is Chanyeol not surprised? Baekhyun does all the things a boyfriend would do. He brings side dishes from his mom’s house to share with Chanyeol, he left his toothbrush in the bathroom _just in case_ and he wears Chanyeol’s clothes more than he wears his.

Baekhyun seems to unwind, all the tension leaving his body. He goes soft when Chanyeol pushes him closer and Chanyeol knows he’s done the right thing. 

Baekhyun’s skin is still slightly damp on his nape where he has obviously not dried his hair. He never does so, despite his hair being definitely too long now for people not to give him the stink eye. 

"How long have you been standing today?" Chanyeol asks, changing topic the second Baekhyun leans his weight on him a little with a contented sigh. 

"Eight, nine hours maybe?" He says, his damp hair meets Chanyeol's shoulder, tickling his neck. "I helped the head of cardio with a transplant. It's thrilling, holding a heart." He's got this smile when he talks about his job, Chanyeol swears he's ten times more beautiful. 

"Tell me about it," Chanyeol encourages him. He follows the hollows of his ribcage distractedly.

"Minseok sunbae did most of the job," Baekhyun remarks with just a vague vein of bitterness in his voice. "I just got to stand next to the head of cardio. Held the new heart until he put it in place. It was thrilling nonetheless." He stops, to turn his head and press his lips on Chanyeol's jugular. They’re soft. "Your day?"

Chanyeol avoids the question with a shrug that could mean everything or nothing. "How have you not collapsed yet, then?" He questions instead, after a few minutes of silence. Baekhyun chuckles a breathy laugh, then allows himself to turn around, sneak his hands under Chanyeol's hoodie. 

"I wanted to see you. Talk to you," The fabric muffles his voice. "Have dinner. I haven't eaten anything edible in two days." The last sentence sounds like a whine, as Baekhyun's nose digs into Chanyeol's sternum. His hands roam from Chanyeol's hips to his back, and draw nonsensical patterns there. "Except for coffee."

"Yeah, I can tell," Chanyeol says, one hand on Baekhyun's shoulder, the other combing through his hair. Baekhyun makes an over dramatic moan of appreciation, as he does when he's splayed on the bed after a night shift and Chanyeol is easing the tension away with one of those massages that hurt more than relax. Baekhyun likes them though, says they're refreshing.

"Your day. Tell me how it was. I like talking to you," Baekhyun prompts, glancing up. His eyes droop slightly down. "After all the shit I get from patients, from residents, from the other interns, I swear to god all I want to do is talk to you. Or have you talk to me, whatever."

Chanyeol's heart has been Baekhyun's for a year by now. But there's something in Baekhyun's eyes, as he locks them with Chanyeol, that makes him wonder if maybe Baekhyun's heart isn't his as well.

"Jongdae was spying on the project for our house," Chanyeol shares, trying to ignore the fact that his ears are slightly pink and his heart is beating just a bit faster, wondering if Baekhyun noticed how he called it _our_ house. "He said windows on three sides is the worst idea ever. That you wouldn't be able to sleep." He brings it up like a real issue, knowing the house is real as much as the windows Baekhyun wants there. The fact that Baekhyun thinks the house is just a pipe dream is just a small detail in the picture.

He pulls Baekhyun away from the counter, walking backwards, positively trying to drag him to bed. Baekhyun lets him, holding on a bit tighter.

"The kimchi jjigae..." He murmurs, and Chanyeol drops to sit on the bed, Baekhyun straddling his legs, knees parted on each side of Chanyeol's thighs.  
"I turned it off, you weren't looking." He smiles, a bit too twitchy for his own preference, but it makes Baekhyun smile as well and that's enough.

"Jongdae doesn't understand," Baekhyun says, his face pretty displeased with Chanyeol's colleague dismissing their dream house like that. "Windows are great. He obviously doesn't live in my place. If he did he would know what it means when you get zero sunlight." His hands reach out to touch Chanyeol's face, fingers following the bump on Chanyeol's nose, the shape of his eyes. He tugs at his ears just slightly, without hurting him, really, but enough to make Chanyeol recoil and pull his shoulders up in defense.

In the end, he cups Chanyeol's face and looks straight into his eyes. Chanyeol feels like he knows what it was, that thing in Baekhyun's eyes, just now in the kitchen. He knows, but they've talked about it already. Or, to be more precise, Chanyeol has taken Baekhyun’s words literally when, three months in, he said he wouldn’t want things to change _ever_. They got too busy to talk about it, after that, and Chanyeol left it as it is. 

He cherishes their almost-relationship, although the _almost_ makes his heart ache more than he’d like to admit.

Baekhyun opens his mouth to say something, his breath fanning over Chanyeol's lips. He stays like that for a few seconds, battling with himself, his expression blank. Chanyeol can feel him losing that battle when Baekhyun rests his forehead against Chanyeol and closes his eyes with a sigh, followed by a weak laugh. "I like your ears." 

"I know," Chanyeol murmurs. "Hyun..." he starts, and Baekhyun's eyes flicker open. "I don't want windows on every side, people will see us naked," he adds in a whisper, as if it's some kind of important secret. It's enough to put Baekhyun at ease because he laughs, bumping his forehead with Chanyeol's a couple of times. "And you know how much I like walk around naked after we've done the nasty."

"And you know how much I like to watch," Baekhyun confesses after Chanyeol's hands end up on his thighs. His fingers reach for the goldfish almost automatically. They graze it and Baekhyun shivers. "It's ticklish," he squirms. He looks almost shy for a moment there when he avoids Chanyeol's gaze.

"Could you do the fucking today?" Baekhyun asks, filling the space left by Chanyeol's silence. "I've been standing all day, I'm tired." His ears, even his cheeks are just a bit redder than usual, it makes Chanyeol feel all warm inside, how Baekhyun gets all embarrassed when he wants to relinquish control. 

Chanyeol grimaces, and he lets himself fall to lie onto the mattress. Baekhyun seeks comfort in bluntness, by labelling their sleeping together _fucking_. Chanyeol doesn't like it that much, but he lets it be. It's not that important, after all.

"I don't mind. I like fucking you," he says, carless, and Baekhyun seems to get the message somehow. He leans in, mirroring the same grimace Chanyeol is sporting now. He kisses his nose briefly. 

"I used fuck again. I'm sorry," he mumbles. 

Chanyeol only hums back.

 

They don’t get to the fucking. Baekhyun falls asleep cradling Chanyeol's head to his chest, one leg draped over his abdomen. Chanyeol follows the shape of Baekhyun's spine with his fingers, once Baekhyun's t-shirt slides halfway up and he's too tired to pull it down again. For some reason, it prevent the puppy noises Baekhyun makes before falling asleep.

Baekhyun's breathing in his ear and some program on tv left on low volume in the background. It's soothing, and Chanyeol couldn’t want anything more than this. 

 

The place where Sehun and Chanyeol usually eat dakgalbi in Sillim-dong is closed for renovation. It annoys Chanyeol immensely, since that dakgalbi place is his favorite. The one where they're eating right now, though, is Sehun's favorite and he's eager to have Chanyeol know how pleased he is, grinning from ear to ear, eyes squinting into crescents. Sehun is kind of intimidating when he's serious— He wants to look cool, with the sharp eyebrows and straight posture. 

However, the Sehun Chanyeol has come to know in the thirteen years they've been friends is far from cool, far from self confident, and not not intimidating in the least. Sehun smiles a lot around Chanyeol, and that's the Sehun he prefers: rocking _samdidas_ on rainy days and gym clothes half of the time, whining if he bumps his elbow into something. Sehun is sweet, he just doesn't want people to know it, and Chanyeol won't spoil it for him.

The ahjummas know everything. They like to pamper him, and one of them stops to hit him on the shoulder when he compliments her for the perm she's gotten recently. 

"Ohi, will you stop hitting on grannies?" He hits Sehun on the shoulder on the other side, and he puts enough force in it for the sound of skin hitting fabric to resonate throughout the restaurant.

Sehun whimpers, curling against— more like inside— the table. "Fuck, why do you have to _always_ hit me?" He groans some more, reaching out with chopsticks to pick up some meat, onions, and a leaf of cabbage from another bowl. He's still clutching on his shoulder, while he glares at Chanyeol in scrutiny as he clutches his shoulder. "Don't they give eggs with dakgalbi here?" He asks, as if Chanyeol hasn't almost rendered his shoulder useless.

"Not that I remember," Chanyeol replies, munching on some meat. "They didn't give it even in the other restaurant." He fishes out some meat, a rice cake, and proceeds to drop them into Sehun's plate. 

"You're not buying me with a piece of meat we're sharing the bill for," He comments, blunt, his lips drawn in a line. 

Chanyeol can notice the shadow of a smile behind that, but pretends to be hurt. He pouts, just a little. "Hyung treats you so well, though? Admit it. I'm good, aren't I? I even got you that Mewtwo plushie from the crane games the other day. I spent more than 10.000 won on that. I'm a good hyung. Admit it."

Sehun is trying hard not to choke on his chicken each time Chanyeol repeats the word _hyung_. He wheezes, then chuckles with his forehead planted on his palm. "Yeol-ah..." he starts, and Chanyeol knows this is funny. Sehun never uses honorifics with anyone, especially with Chanyeol. "... There hasn't been a time, in thirteen years, that I've called you _hyung_. I do have some more colorful expressions I could use, but I like your mom a lot so I don't."

"I don't even know why I hang out with you, to be honest," Chanyeol grumbles back, but his chopsticks reach to drop some more chicken and onion on to Sehun's plate. It’s like there’s a barrier between what they tell each other and how they _treat_ each other. "Do they really serve eggs with dakgalbi? Where though?" 

The topic goes back to what Sehun brought up. He frowns while wrapping the chicken Chanyeol has given him with one more leaf of cabbage. "I'm not sure? I do remember us eating dakgalbi with eggs somewhere. I can't remember. I should ask Kyungsoo Hyung." 

The name is mentioned so naturally, Chanyeol only has the time to steal a glance of Sehun's face. "How come I'm _bastard_ , _fucker_ , _dickhead_ and Kyungsoo is _Kyungsoo Hyung_?" He asks, only vaguely miffed. 

Sehun smiles his usual lopsided smile, shakes his head. "Kyungsoo Hyung is Kyungsoo Hyung…," is all he says. It's enough for Chanyeol to know that he's lost this battle.

The air conditioning directly behind their table makes him feel like they're eating chicken in a fridge. He rubs his arms a couple of times and Sehun hands him his hoodie, which was on the stool next to him along with his backpack and Chanyeol's bag. "Aren't you cold?"

"No, it's fine." Sehun shrugs. "It's yours anyway," he adds after making sure Chanyeol is at an acceptable distance from him. Chanyeol pauses, his arm already through the arm hole, mouth hanging slightly open. "This is mine?"

He examines it, taking a look at the tag, before glancing towards Sehun again."Stop stealing my clothes," he mutters, and it's only because the ahjumma walks by to stir fry their rice that Chanyeol doesn't kick him from under the table. 

Sehun conveniently waits until she's gone and Chanyeol is looking at his phone to reply. "I don't _steal_ them. You lend them to me and I conveniently forget to give them back," the bastard chuckles, and taps with his spoon on the rice— Sehun likes it almost burned, when it starts sticking to the pan. "At least I wash them. Does Baekhyun hyung wash them before returning your clothes?" He asks, and Chanyeol has to focus not to show how much he _doesn't_ want to talk about Baekhyun. He swallows.

"Baekhyun uses my clothes at home." And at work. And sometimes when he goes to his house as well. And he steals Chanyeol's underwear when he doesn't plan to stay or forgets to bring a change. Baekhyun is forgetful, Chanyeol wonders how good of a surgeon he can be. 

Sehun definitely doesn't need to know all of that.

But he does, and he makes note of telling Chanyeol while munching on his rice. His mouth still open as he mumbles. "Bullshit. I've seen him sneaking out of your place in your clothes from head to toe." A grain of rice sticks to his lips, Chanyeol rolls his eyes.  
"Are you waiting for me to clean that for you?" He asks, more as a warning than as an offer. 

"Has he moved to your place yet?" Sehun bites back. He brushes the grain of rice off his chin with the back of his hand. He knows Chanyeol doesn't like to talk about it, but it's part of Sehun being Sehun, forcing Chanyeol to deal with things he tries to avoid.

"Hun, just drop it," Chanyeol spits out revealing a bit more annoyance than he'd like. He deflates almost instantly though. "We're not dating, I told you." He stays silent for a while. Sehun stares at him, his expression says he clearly won't fall for any of it. "I'm busy because of work and Baekhyun has 48 hours shifts during the week. When would we date, exactly?" 

A flick of his shoulders, Sehun grabs one spoonful of rice without really looking how much he's picking up, then he nudges at Chanyeol's spoon, encouraging him to eat some as well. "If someone came to my house almost every day after work, I'd call him my boyfriend, not my fuck buddy," he comments, belatedly, before he goes silent again. "You're free not to label it, I'm just saying," he amends as an afterthought, his cheek ends up resting on his palm.

"Can we not have this conversation now?" Chanyeol sounds like he's begging at this point. "The rice is getting burned, turn this thing off." 

"You know you shouldn't have this conversation with me, but with Baekhyun hyung, ri—"

"Then why are we having it?" Chanyeol spits back before Sehun can even finish the sentence.  
He looks up, his expression trained in the best poker face. Sehun knows him too well to not know that it's a mask. 

"Wow." He cards one hand through his hair. The strands go back into place, forming a perfect middle part that couldn't suit anyone as well as it does Sehun. "You're really into him aren't you? I thought you would get tired after a couple of months… Or that maybe he would get tired of you but... How long has it been?" 

Sehun is never afraid of speaking his mind, no matter how hurtful the truth is. And Chanyeol is just Chanyeol. He puts too much passion into everything, be it work, hobbies, love. He knows he's the one loving more, giving more. He knows he'll end up burned. But he also knows Baekhyun hurts him and kisses the pain away.

 

Sehun hooks his head on Chanyeol's shoulder as Chanyeol draws a puff from his cigarette while they’re standing in a shady little alley to the left of the restaurant. The voices of the two ahjussi talking loudly in front of a suljib are enough to drown the repetitive theme music coming out of the claw games in the corner of the street. 

"Hyung?" 

Chanyeol's lips curl up. Sehun never calls him hyung unless he wants something. And he's circling his shoulders now— he can feel him smile without even seeing him. "Hyung I'm suddenly craving choco milk."

Choco milk. Chanyeol turns and Sehun lets go of him. He's still sporting a not-at-all-cute pout on that handsome face of his. "Why are you looking at me like that? Go and buy it. The convenience store is over there," he directs, then points at it with a flick of his chin. 

"Buy me choco milk." It sounds like an order, but Sehun is still pouting as Chanyeol's laugh blends into yet another drag of smoke. He wonders if Kyungsoo lets Sehun win every day, if they argue at all and just how they ended up dating when both of them are quite shy with strangers. 

He wonders if he doesn't let Baekhyun win too often.

 

Baekhyun calls in the afternoon, on Chanyeol's worst day. 

Chanyeol loves his job, he does. What he hates is feeling so unimportant in front of his boss and his colleagues. Today hit rock bottom the second his boss decided that someone else's project was better than Chanyeol's, and threw away a month’s worth of hard work, blueprints and agreements with a client to give the job to Chanyeol's colleague. Chanyeol is used to this shit, he's used to thinking that maybe it's his ideas that suck in the end, but it doesn't make him less stressed, nor less angry. 

Baekhyun calls him when he's sitting in a toilet stall thinking that he'd rather throw up than punch a wall, since he'd need his hands to draw. Baekhyun calls him, and he must sense something is off. Or at least Chanyeol likes to delude himself that Baekhyun knows him well enough to notice.

The hospital where Baekhyun works is quite big, in Gwanak-gu, and it's one of the biggest in the area. There's always a lot of people coming and going, mostly old ladies and kids with the flu. Baekhyun says there's some interesting surgery every now and then, since they were able to snatch a good neurosurgeon and the head of cardio seems to be quite famous in Korea. But most of what Chanyeol knows about is stitches and IV drips— because Baekhyun likes to talk about his job sometimes, and Chanyeol likes to listen.

He's been there a couple of times, either to bring Baekhyun clothes or to have lunch together in the hospital canteen. Baekhyun introduces him as a friend, yet he's not afraid to kiss him goodbye when he leaves. 

Today he kisses him hello and drags him through the corridors, tossing a manila folder on the first stretcher he can find. "You need to recharge your batteries," he observes as he pushes Chanyeol in what at first sight looks like a storeroom. 

It's one of those rooms with bunk beds that Chanyeol has only seen in American TV series; those rooms where doctors sleep in between shifts and engage in more exciting activities than attending patients. It's one of those rooms, and Baekhyun's arms are around his neck, pulling him down, just slightly, for a kiss. It's slow, languid like all of Baekhyun's kisses. Silk.

It's one of those rooms, and Chanyeol only half realizes that Baekhyun is slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. He’s too distracted by Baekhyun kissing his jaw softly to be aware of the fabric being peeled off his arms. Baekhyun kisses him on the tip of the nose, nuzzles against it with his own. And that pulls at Chanyeol's heart, makes everything clash in a jumble of emotions way too easily for him to understand. His heart is a drum with Baekhyun so close to him, meeting his eyes like this. 

It's one of those rooms, and Chanyeol expects certain things when he tosses Baekhyun's lab coat on the floor, not too far from one of the bunk beds. He expects giggles and maybe their legs all tangled up in the sheets later, while they try to be quiet because someone might walk in. Chanyeol likes the thrill, but he likes Baekhyun even more as he lies down on the mattress, his arms stretched above his head. "C'mhere," he says, and Chanyeol keeps his expectations high and going. 

Baekhyun locks his legs around Chanyeol’s hips to pull him on the bed. He guides Chanyeol's head until it's in the crook of his shoulder and waits, patiently, until Chanyeol has his arms wrapped around him. He squeezes tighter with a contented hum. "Bad day huh?" He asks, and Chanyeol groans squeezing back.

"The worst." His voice comes out muffled, but Baekhyun understands anyway, he always does.

It must be Baekhyun lips, what he feels pressing against his crown, and it's definitely Baekhyun’s hand, cold, on his back. "It's ok, I'm here now," Baekhyun whispers, and Chanyeol had expectations but he's fine with this as well.

Baekhyun slips Chanyeol's hand under his minty green scrubs, until his fingers fall perfectly on the shape of his hipbones and Chanyeol feels like everything is right where it's supposed to be. Baekhyun's heart is racing as Chanyeol shifts, until he can lift the fabric of the scrub enough to stamp a kiss on Baekhyun's hip. It seems to stutter when Chanyeol licks there teasingly.

"I'm not gonna do it in here," Baekhyun warns with a flick of his finger on Chanyeol's temple. He's smiling, relaxed, and he doesn't squirm even when Chanyeol's hands let go of his hips and slip into his pants, until Chanyeol is positively grabbing his butt. 

He chuckles, his voice low. "What makes you think that I want to do it?"

Baekhyun hums, as if thinking about it. "It must be your hands on my asscheeks." He retorts, in the end, the point of his toes scratching Chanyeol's shin. "My asscheeks appreciate it, by the way. Your hands are always nice."  
"They do?" Chanyeol gives a good squeeze this time and Baekhyun lifts himself up just a bit, only to drag Chanyeol's face closer to his. He stops once their lips are almost brushing against each other. 

"Yeah, they do." 

Baekhyun kisses like he's tasting wine, drinking in all of Chanyeol's sanity and soul with him. It makes Chanyeol dizzy and euphoric at the same time; he never wants Baekhyun to stop kissing him, touching him. It's Chanyeol who touches more, however, his thumbs following the curve of Baekhyun's butt. Baekhyun shivers when one of Chanyeol's fingers gets closer to the cleft. He deepens the kiss, pulls Chanyeol flush against him.

 

"Do you feel better? How are your batteries?" Some people need to be alone to recharge, some people go have a walk, some other let it all out at noraebang. Chanyeol's battery recharges while he's next to Baekhyun— preferably as close as he can be. He likes it even more when Baekhyun talks to him. Baekhyun's voice is annoying, and he's loud and obnoxious when he wants, yet he can be just as soft and attentive. Chanyeol doesn't know much, but he does know that Baekhyun is the one he wants. Every missing piece, Baekhyun has.

"I don't want to sleep with anyone else but you,” is how he replies, calmly as if he isn't affected. His lips brush against the skin of Baekhyun's tummy, as Baekhyun cards his fingers through Chanyeol's hair. Baekhyun’s hands seem to hesitate for a second, and Chanyeol is terrified— even if he's still draped over him. Even though Baekhyun doesn't let go.

Chanyeol’s terrified because Baekhyun and he are good at having routines, at not calling for weeks, at showing up at each others' places without invitation. What they're not good at is going into unknown territory and trying things out. But Chanyeol is stupid— a bit of a coward too, and what he is left with is a lot of hope and love for Baekhyun. All he can do is give, so he does. 

"We sleep together…." he starts, and he lifts his head a little so that he can look at Baekhyun's face and see all the small changes of expressions; how Baekhyun's ears are just a bit red. "... and you come to my place all soaked with rain and change into my clothes. We cuddle. And you call me here when I'm having a bad day, to recharge my batteries." He says all of these things as if these are reasons, valid reasons to why he's here hugging Baekhyun. "I don't want to sleep with anyone else." 

"I'm not sleeping with anyone else," Baekhyun replies, quietly. Everything else about Baekhyun is always so loud, and yet this makes him shy.

Chanyeol sighs. He uses his arms as leverage to crawl closer to Baekhyun's face. "What I'm trying to say is that .. I want to try."

He’s finally saying what he should’ve said months ago, when Baekhyun had sighed after yet another lazy morning in bed, snuggling into Chanyeol’s back. _I really like how things are between us_ , he’d held on tight; Chanyeol still remembers Baekhyun’s hands, warm, on his belly. _I don’t want things to change,_ he’d whispered. Chanyeol had been a coward, then— words had just choked in his throat. 

Now it’s different, though. Now he’s said it; it’s done.

Chanyeol pauses, calibrates Baekhyun's reaction: how he's holding his breath. Chanyeol is dying inside but he _has_ to say it. "The boyfriend thing. The dating. The stupid lovestagram and couple clothes. Hell we can skip that if you don't like it but... Having all this and not knowing what it is, it's frustrating." 

Baekhyun smiles, more embarrassed than cheeky. "I... do wear your clothes a lot…” Baekhyun hesitates, forming the words.“I... I need some time. To get used to the idea of..." He drops the sentence, and one of his fingers grazes Chanyeol's lower lip. "Wait for me ok?" He asks, to which Chanyeol just nods. He knows Baekhyun, and he knows he's probably not going to call after this.

"Yeol I mean it. Wait for me. I'm not leaving you hanging," Baekhyun repeats pleadingly. He pulls at Chanyeol's ear with a weak smile, he searches for his gaze. Chanyeol has learned not to read too much in Baekhyun’s eyes and his gestures, yet the way he’s looking at Chanyeol now feels different. The pull at Chanyeol’s ear blends into an excuse to just touch it. Chanyeol is still skeptical, he forces himself to ignore how desperate Baekhyun looked right now.

"You kinda are though...?" Chanyeol retreats with a shake of his head. He rests his cheek on Baekhyun's sternum once again.

The rhythm of his breathing is soothing. "Give me some time." Baekhyun whispers.  
Chanyeol nods directly onto Baekhyun’s skin, inhaling.  
It feels meaningless, like Baekhyun’s request.

 

Baekhyun falls asleep after a while, fingers buried into Chanyeol's hair and puppy whimpers. He spasms a bit when he's falling asleep, his leg twitches a few times. Even with all the uncertainties hanging between them, Chanyeol finds it cute. He rubs circles on his hip until Baekhyun seems to be fast asleep. Then he says it. 

"I love you." He whispers it, as if it was the deepest of secrets. As if it doesn’t show on his face whenever he meets Baekhyun eyes.

_I love you_. It's as simple as that.

 

Baekhyun prefers texts over phone calls. He's practical, fast, and his texting technique is precise. He doesn't waste words, if he does text at all. His texts to Chanyeol consist in few curt sentences, usually asking where to meet; telling Chanyeol he's coming over; asking him to stop by the hospital with a kimbap because Baekhyun is starving. Sometimes he's the one who shows up at Chanyeol's office, bearing snacks. Tteokbokki is Chanyeol's favorite, and Baekhyun makes sure to order them extra spicy. 

Baekhyun always waits downstairs, half hidden, sitting on the wall close to the screen door. Chanyeol would prefer him to come upstairs— to meet Jongdae and Junmyeon, to have a laugh with them, maybe even to tease Chanyeol about the succulent on the desk. Baekhyun doesn't look so eager whenever Chanyeol asks, and he always refuses anyway, comes up with excuses.

Chanyeol prefers phone calls over texts. He likes to insist that he's the practical one, since it's so much easier to call someone and talk to them than to write a whole essay through text. Baekhyun would then say that it's because Chanyeol's fingers are huge sausages that he can't text. He would then wink, and not exactly innocent jokes would be made after that. Chanyeol would laugh, and proceed to show Baekhyun how much of a kink he has for _his_ fingers instead.

In reality it's just that Baekhyun must have some sort of aversion to making phone calls, to the point that once he had Minseok call the ENT specialist for him when he had to get his ear infection treated. He even regularly uses Chanyeol to get fried chicken delivery. Chanyeol teases him for it. 

It's funny how Baekhyun can be this rational, independent guy, yet hesitate at the prospect of a phone call, ask other people to call for him; be nervous to the point of shaking when he's forced into being the one to call. Chanyeol doesn't know how exactly that happens, but it adds to Baekhyun's character. Makes him more endearing.

Baekhyun never makes phone calls, which is why Chanyeol is so surprised to notice his face showing up on the screen of his ringing phone at 1 a.m. on a Thursday night. He's even more surprised when it's Minseok's voice he hears when he picks up. 

"Byun Baekhyun is drunk," Minseok says, though he himself sounds perfectly sober. "We're in that sushi restaurant in front of the hospital, do you remember where it is?" Minseok manages to sound professional even in these circumstances. 

"I remember," Chanyeol confirms, as he throws on some pants over his briefs and a bomber jacket to cover his Star Wars pajama top. He mechanically searches for his car keys, Minseok blabbers some more about someone getting a promotion, about this being their third round. Maybe they'll go to karaoke later. Baekhyun must be wrecked, Chanyeol thinks as he hums along to Minseok’s ramblings. "He's asking for his lover. I reckon calling you was what he wanted me to do." 

"God, how drunk is he?" Baekhyun who is so adamant on fending for himself, who can suture a heart and not budge. The same Baekhyun can't make phone calls without getting nervous and can't hold his alcohol that well. 

"Look, I'm taking care of him until you get here. But you know how these things are," Minseok exhales deep into the receiver. "I don't want him to lose his job, so come here quick."

It's 1:15 a.m. when Chanyeol leaves his officetel. He shivers, the night breeze chills him to the bone. 

 

It turns out Baekhyun has passed out on the table by the time Chanyeol gets to the sushi restaurant, and Minseok comes to meet him outside. "Make something up about why he called you his lover. It’ll be weird if colleagues know about him." He suggests, and he doesn't even bother to look Chanyeol in the eyes. He doesn't look drunk at all, his step sure, firm. "I know." Chanyeol mutters, a few steps behind.

The restaurant is not that crowded, but for some reason the head of cardio is keeping everyone there. He's red in the face, while one of the residents pour some saké for him. There's a lot of empty bottles of alcohol on the long table, some leftover food. There are cigarettes next to Baekhyun's wallet and phone on the table, and Chanyeol wonders what they're doing there. Baekhyun doesn't smoke.

He bows politely, and Minseok introduces him quickly. The head of cardio, Dr Choi, is way too drunk by now to understand where he is and who just walked in, but he does smile. He gestures to Chanyeol to sit down and have a drink. Chanyeol is younger and he is polite too, so he can do nothing but accept. He takes Minseok's place next to Baekhyun, strokes his lower back. "Baekhyun-ah" He calls, and Baekhyun emits a weak groan.

"We told him not to overdo it, but then Taemin over there decided to bet on who could drink the quickest," one of the residents says. He looks young, but Chanyeol doesn't trust looks as indicator of one's age anymore. He's wearing fake glasses, his hair is permed; handsome, but not too handsome.

"Baekhyun sunbae gets drunk easily." It's a girl talking this time, her hair cut into a short chestnut colored bob. She’s tall as well as pretty. She stares at Chanyeol for longer than necessary with an inquisitive gaze. "And so you're the lover?" She asks, and Chanyeol can feel himself go rigid at the word _lover_ used against him. "We didn't think Baekhyun was, you know..." She leaves the sentence hanging, so fake glasses can intervene. 

"We were expecting a girl, to be honest."

There's chatter at the table, but it feels too quiet for Chanyeol's liking. Minseok opens his mouth to say something, his eyes on Chanyeol's. No wonder Baekhyun doesn't want to ever set foot into Chanyeol's workplace. No wonder he always introduces him as a friend when Chanyeol shows up to surprise him. Chanyeol's stomach churns, bitter. He chuckles, shaking his head.

"We've been friends for such a long time that everyone says we're lovers." He feigns confidence he doesn't really have, and that must help somehow because everyone else laughs. "You know, bromance is the trend lately. Have you people watched _Goblin_?" He keeps talking in polite speech, his eyes on Baekhyun. He shakes him a little, until Baekhyun jolts awake, startled. 

Baekhyun squints his eyes and whines. "So loud..."

"Hyun-ah, we're leaving," Chanyeol announces as he helps Baekhyun to stand first, and circle his shoulders with his arm. Baekhyun lets him do whatever he wants, his legs like jelly. He laughs, hiding his face into Chanyeol's chest.

"You're here.." He slurs. 

Now that they think it's platonic, people at the table think it's cute how clingy and pliant Baekhyun looks. They giggle to each other. "I didn't know Dr Byun had aegyo!" Someone else says. It makes Chanyeol want to punch them all in the face, yell that Baekhyun _is_ his lover. 

"I'll take care of Dr Byun from here," he informs instead. Nobody stops him on the way out.

"Nice save." Minseok helps him tuck Baekhyun in the passenger seat. He puts a plastic bag into Baekhyun’s lap. "Give him some hangover drink. His hangovers are bad." And he must read something in Chanyeol's eyes because he takes a step back. "But I guess you would know."

 

"I _do_ know," Chanyeol replies, throwing a glance towards Baekhyun. He's breathing steadily with his eyes closed as he holds on the plastic bag for dear life. Knowing how Baekhyun only pretends to be the social butterfly, he’s probably wanted to leave for the past two hours. "He hates getting drunk. Why do you always have to make him drink?" Chanyeol is tired, he just wants to take Baekhyun home at this point.

"Socialization, sense of community. If your boss says drink you drink." Minseok sticks his hands into the pocket of his blazer. He looks more like a lawyer than a doctor— a young lawyer to be precise. "Make sure he shows up tomorrow afternoon. His shift starts at five."

 

Minseok leaves soon after. It's almost two and Baekhyun gags, sticking his head into the plastic bag. 

"Careful." Chanyeol warns, only half serious, his hand automatically reaching for Baekhyun's back. "Don't puke on the seats, please." 

Baekhyun groans, re-emerges from the bag looking as pale as a ghost. "I can't vomit," he announces, before he flops against the seat. He's only half there, really, but he cracks a smile— his eyes only half open. Cute. "You came to get me."

"Only because Minseok hyung called," Chanyeol clips back, but he's trying to muffle a grin as he starts the car. Baekhyun doesn't reply, too busy inhaling deeply to stop another wave of nausea. 

He leans into Chanyeol's hand, though, when the other runs it through his hair to ruffle it a bit. "I want to go home. I don't feel well."

"Yeah, I know." Chanyeol sighs, and lets his fingers graze the shell of Baekhyun's ear for a second, before he stops to shift gears. "Next time you're the one rescuing drunk me from the party, sound good?"

Baekhyun shakes his head vehemently, he searches for Chanyeol's hand on the gear stick and ends up only linking their pinkies. "I don't like it. You're flirty with everyone when you're drunk. You need to flirt with me. Not Sehun." 

Chanyeol laughs, then moves his fingers until he's stroking Baekhyun's wrist distractedly. "Are you jealous?" He asks, cautious. He doesn't know, because they rarely meet with other people present. He doesn't know because Baekhyun is always careful, he never shows too much.

"I'm jealous," the words slip out of his lips only half realized when Chanyeol stops at the intersection, just a couple of cars behind them. "And I think my dick is gonna explode soon. I need to pee," he adds.  
Chanyeol snorts.

 

"Do my hair now." Baekhyun rubs Chanyeol's hair with a towel a couple of times more, as Chanyeol holds onto his hips. He's kneeling in front of him, Chanyeol sitting cross legged only wearing a pair of long adidas sweats and Baekhyun rocking a pair of mickey mouse briefs he's heavily teased Chanyeol for. "I'm tired." He says, his voice low, almost whiney. Chanyeol just nods back, his eyes linger just a second more than necessary on Baekhyun's lean shoulders, his collarbones. He's thankful Baekhyun doesn't notice, for once.

He's is still obviously tipsy, brows furrowed in concentration as he balances on Chanyeol's shoulders to sit in front of him, legs spread on the duvet. He sighs when Chanyeol covers his head with a dry towel and starts massaging his scalp. 

"How do you feel?" He asks, and he goes tense at Baekhyun's fingers on his almost non-existent abs. 

"Like I was ran over by a truck. Your hands feel nice, though." His words are still slurred, his head hangs low whenever Chanyeol lets go of it. He's a mess, and Chanyeol loves him even more. "Yeol?" He calls, suddenly. 

"Mh?" 

"Where did your abs go?" He asks, mirth in his voice. Chanyeol slaps his head jokingly, and Baekhyun lets himself fall on one side with a dramatic whimper. He stays there for a while, Chanyeol just staring at him. "Kiss me." He says then, suddenly, both his arms reaching for Chanyeol, inviting him to lie down as well. He looks comfortable on Chanyeol’s bed, his eyelids heavy and his cheek pressed against the duvet. It’s like he belongs there.

Baekhyun is not one of those people who can fall asleep anywhere; he often complains about how tired he feels when he sleeps in his cramped one room apartment, or in one of those hospital rooms. Yet his eyelids flutter closed so easily when he’s next to Chanyeol; when he curls up in the sheets, his forehead lightly touching Chanyeol’s arms. 

Baekhyun begging for kisses like he’s doing now is not a rare event either.

"I sold my abs for a few burgers at Lotteria. You feed me too much take out," Chanyeol murmurs. He leans in anyway, only to stamp a kiss on Baekhyun's cheekbone— much to Baekhyun's disappointment. 

"Your hair has gotten so long, Hyun-ah. Let's go cut it tomorrow." Baekhyun's ash-blonde hair makes a weird contrast against Chanyeol's skin. It's damp, looks darker than usual, and Baekhyun is staring at Chanyeol with a look that he can't read. It's greedy, yet loving at the same time. “Am I really that fat?” Chanyeol asks, almost shy, and Baekhyun shakes his head slowly.

"I want to try it." His voice cracks by the end of the sentence. "Being with you," he adds, his voice pretty much gone. Chanyeol leans in for a kiss, soft, unhurried, and he wraps his arms around Baekhyun's torso to pull him up from the mattress. Baekhyun lets him, pliant, for once. He lets Chanyeol slide his Star Wars pajama top on him, and doesn't complain when Chanyeol smiles and kisses his forehead, brushes his hair back. He looks confused, yes, but not annoyed.

"Why are you not saying anything?" He asks, his voice small. Chanyeol covers both of them with one of the soft blankets they stole from Yixing's manhwa cafe, the only one time they went. 

"Say it again, when you're sober," he requests, belatedly. He guides Baekhyun to fit flush against him like a puzzle piece, his nose tickling Chanyeol's neck.

Baekhyun prefers being the hugger, Chanyeol knows. But today his heart is going so fast he needs to be the one doing the hugging. He needs Baekhyun as close as he can have him. He needs the illusion that Baekhyun is not gonna leave, that he's gonna try being with him. For real. So he hugs tighter and Baekhyun nods, shallowly, his breath warm against Chanyeol's skin.

 

Lunch time is always hectic in the cafeteria on the first floor, but then again, the firm where Chanyeol works is lucky enough to have a cafeteria, so who's he to complain about it? Today's meal is sad: a beef cutlet, a small portion of salad, kimchi and rice. Chanyeol had avoided the weird looking creamy thing that was included in the meal, only to end up eating Jongdae's. There's incessant chattering, especially from the table next to theirs, where the freshly hired architects are discussing a project.

Jongdae and Chanyeol have been working for the same firm for a while now, and as much as they both like their job, they have somehow lost the sparkle they had when they first entered IARC. Then there's Junmyeon, sitting beside Jongdae in his perfectly ironed white shirt, sneakily pushing some more beef into Jongdae's plate. Chanyeol is still trying to understand what's going on between the two of them, yet he's not curious enough to directly ask.

"I heard about the attic," Junmyeon says, his eyes on his plate. It’s a miracle Chanyeol’s neck doesn’t snap, considering how fast his head turns to death-glare Jongdae. The bastard is just silently eating his meat, nothing much to say, just a smirk on his face.

"You told him?" Chanyeol asks, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. He groans when Jongdae shrugs. Junmyeon tries to save the situation as he shakes his head. Bless him for trying to defend Jongdae as always.

Jongdae couldn’t care less. "Yep. I showed him the blueprint. He agrees with me, too many windows." Junmyeon goes from shaking his head to slightly nodding. 

“Just a bit too many windows, Yeol. I don’t know what you want to do with it, but decency, you know...” Junmyeon explains after taking a spoonful of his rice.

"Yeah, nobody wants to see your piton dangling in the wind.” Chanyeol wants to go hide and then possibly kill himself as he notices a few colleagues throwing weirded out stares towards their table. “Plus weren't you the one complaining about not being able to sleep when there's light in a room?" Jongdae continues while playing with the end of his chopsticks. He makes them clack together, distractedly.

"That place is not for me to live in. I'm just following the client's instructions." Chanyeol is the worst liar, but he should probably get a prize for trying, every time he does.

"Then why is it under your name?" Jongdae clips back. 

See? Terrible liar. He feels his cheeks go warm, as he tries to stutter a proper excuse until all he’s left with is pretending to be very angry at him. "I can't believe you went and snooped around Kim Jongdae." He puts on the serious tone, and he can see Junmyeon almost choking on his rice in the back.

"I was just curious, that's all." Jongdae finally ends it with the clicking chopsticks and takes the piece of meat Junmyeon has sneakily pushed into his plate. 

"You could've asked," Chanyeol complains even if he knows it’s no use, really. 

 

"And you wouldn't have told me, just as usual," Jongdae spits back, Chanyeol feels himself flop onto the table, his head resting on his forearms in defeat. 

"It's because, maybe, I don't feel like talking about it just yet! What do you think?" He whines, turning his head to the side.

Jongdae shuts him up with a spoonful of rice, Chanyeol munches on it quietly. 

"'Dae why are you so pressed about this?" It’s Junmyeon asking, only to get ignored by Jongdae who’s obviously three minutes ahead in the conversation. "Wait, don't tell me..” He pauses, as if he’d received the holy revelation. “Are you moving in with that kid? Tall and as rigid as a plank? Cute ass?"

It’s funny how Chanyeol’s brain goes on freeze for a second at the last remark, and he pushes himself up, his head falls a bit to the side. "Sehun? What?! No! I'm..." His brain is obviously having problem processing the idea, as it pictures him and Sehun, then rejects the idea completely. "I'm not moving in with Sehun..."

"Hey didn't you say your aunt was admitted at Yangji Hospital yesterday?" Junmyeon interrupts, poking Jongdae’s shoulder insistently and not to feed him meet this time. "There was a short circuit in one of the ORs. I'm not sure, they're talking about a fire."

“I think she's been discharged earlier in the morning, I should probably..." Chanyeol isn’t listening anymore, all he can do is keep his eyes on the screen of the tv as he feels his breathing catch.

"Yeol are you alright?" It’s Junmyeon asking, but Jongdae’s hand is on his shoulder.

Chanyeol swallows the lump in his throat as he stares at the images on the TV screen from across the room. They're probably giving really useful information about who to contact to be updated about the situation, but all Chanyeol can see is a fire and the number of casualties that, for now, are estimated as two. 

"I need to go." He mutters. Jongdae must sense something wrong in his voice because he looks up, scans his face.

"Is there someone you know there?" He asks, his voice softer than it usually is. Chanyeol doesn't really register what he's saying at this point. He certainly blabbers something, as he stares at his phone screen. Chanyeol tends to panic easily when it comes to his friends. The only one time Sehun got in an accident with his scooter he yelled at the doctors and even yelled at Sehun himself, for being such an idiot. "Go, I'll cover for you." Jongdae says, lightly touching Chanyeol's forearm. Somewhere behind him, Junmyeon nods, but Chanyeol doesn't really notice him.

He doesn't remember how he gets into the elevator and then into his car. The weird chirping sound his phone makes in the attempt of calling Baekhyun over and over is the only thing he can focus on right now. "Fuck, Byun Baekhyun answer your damn phone..." He mutters. Jongdae should've gone with him, anyone should've been there to make sure Chanyeol doesn't freak out, and it's too late now. 

He pulls over in the middle of the main street near Bangbae-dong, his forehead hits the wheel with a thunk as Chanyeol tries to remember how to breathe properly. His phone never stops calling, but Baekhyun never picks up. A couple of cars honk at him, the traffic light turns green twice before Chanyeol can figure out what to do. He tries to chase out of his mind every thought of Baekhyun being caught in the fire. 

He feels like someone is twisting his stomach as he starts the car again. Baekhyun talks a lot. He talks about stitches, about holding hearts, about the old couple he treated last week. About how the husband didn't want to let go of his wife's hand. He talks about the patients, the naps he takes on the stretchers, about the other residents and how much he'd want Chanyeol there, when he's tired. When he hasn't slept for two days straight and he's only surviving on coffee.

He'd talked about his first solo appendectomy this morning, while tracing the back of Chanyeol's neck with his lips. He'd talked about how annoyed he was because the appendix is oh so far from the heart, and Baekhyun wants to be a cardio surgeon. Chanyeol knows he's over reacting, he knows Baekhyun was probably nowhere near the fire, he _knows_ and yet he's gripping at the steering wheel in frustration in the congested street. He breathes in, out.

Chanyeol doesn't know what to call their relationship. They're too intimate to be fuck buddies, and yet basically strangers. Chanyeol has never met Baekhyun's mother, nor his brother. He's never met his friends. Yet he knows so much about his reactions, the expressions he makes, the little faces of disappointment he pulls when something doesn't go the way the wants. The rhythm of his breathing, the steadiness of his heartbeat. The loose ends of their relationship keep tangling, intertwining. It's a mess. Chanyeol wishes he'd said it out loud.

How much he loves him.

The hospital is chaos: the fire truck parked in front of it, people running in, rushing out of the building. Chanyeol tries dialing Baekhyun's number again as he looks around frantically. He searches for Baekhyun's face among the crowd of people. They all look the same, all Chanyeol can see is patients. Most of them have been given blankets despite the hot weather, only a couple have oxygen masks covering their mouths. There's firemen yelling, the police are trying to contain the pack of angry relatives decided to get into the building, screaming for any kind of info, as if raising their voices helped.

One of the policemen asks him what he wants, why he's there. Chanyeol can't think, he's not that different from those angry relatives. He wants to know. "What about the doctors?" He asks, and the policeman ignores him. _You can't stay here_ he says. He pushes Chanyeol back, not even that gently. It's different from that time with Sehun. He’d wanted to yell, back then, he had all kinds of words coming out of his mouth. Now he can't reply. He feels powerless as he takes a couple of steps back.

A few more patients come out of the main door of the hospital helped by a couple of firemen. A group of doctors comes after, and Chanyeol can't handle the grip it has on his heart every time one of those people is not Baekhyun. He calls again.

He tries not to worry about the _what ifs_ , about the possibility of not seeing Baekhyun again. He's shaking as he gets back in the car, he feels like vomiting. Hitting something. He vents his frustration into the steering wheel. He punches it once, twice, then the sound of the horn startles him and he stops. That's when he realizes that he's panicking because he's scared, because the idea of Baekhyun trapped in that building terrifies him.

 

He doesn't know how long he waits in the car, keeping his mind busy with anything but Baekhyun. When he looks up again, however, the sky is a couple of shades darker than it was when he first got there. He puts on some music at some point and wants to punch himself instead, because the only CD he has in the car is the same one he's listened to for the past fourteen months or so. And Baekhyun had made it for him, since Chanyeol's radio doesn't pick up the frequencies well enough to listen to a station properly. 

Chanyeol laughs, bitter, and bites the side of his cheek. Pathetic.

He's ready to start the car and go home, when the first notes of a Song Si Kyung song echo from the speakers in the back. Hell, he and Baekhyun aren't even together. Why does he have to care to the point of not being able to function? 

Baekhyun and his passion for stupid heartbreaking love songs. Chanyeol turns down the volume until the song can't be heard anymore, only the sound of his breath echoing into his ears. That's when something, near the entrance of the hospital, catches his eyes and Chanyeol barges out of the car as fast as he can.

There's little to no people around the building now, most people have left or have been transferred to other hospitals, except for Baekhyun. Because Baekhyun has to be the one to help, he has to be the hero, always. Chanyeol doesn't know whether to punch him or kiss him, as he literally runs to close the distance between them. He's wearing a light blue scrub, his hair partially hidden under a floral hair cap. His scrub is burned here and there, one sleeve is partially ripped. His face has a few scratches, dirt from the smoke. His eyes are red, puffy, as he smiles to the girl he's holding in his arms.

Chanyeol knows a lot of things about Baekhyun; how he likes his rice, that he sleeps on the side and he gets hot really easily. That he likes Chanyeol to dry his hair, and he likes Chanyeol to make love to him a lot more when he's cranky and tired. Chanyeol knows a lot of things about him like that little, imperceptible shift of expression Baekhyun allows himself when their eyes meet.

Breathing is easier, once Baekhyun smiles faintly. "You're here." He murmurs, as the girl pokes his cheek first, then hugs him tighter. He flinches, just slightly, but it's enough for Chanyeol to come closer. 

"Are you ok?" He asks, cautious, and Baekhyun nods. "I've been trying to call you for hours, I thought..." Chanyeol lets the sentence die in the back of his throat.

"I'm fine. My phone is somewhere in there, in my locker probably. I'm not even sure it's still usable." Baekhyun laughs as he hands the girl to one of the firemen. He thanks him, smiles, all polite and unbreakable. "Can we go home?" He stands awkwardly next to Chanyeol, when all Chanyeol wants to do is hold him.

He holds it in, instead, as his heart processes the fact that Baekhyun is there, that he's ok. He can calm down now. "You should probably let someone check you. You don't look great." Chanyeol points out. His hand reaches out to peel off the hair cap from Baekhyun's head. He'd normally ruffle his hair, yet today he decides to wait.

"I'm fine." Baekhyun replies, tiredly. Chanyeol doesn't wait for him as he heads to the car, he walks just a bit faster. A small revenge. He's waited for hours, dying inside, for Baekhyun to be his usual apparently detached self. Which Chanyeol knows to be only one side of Baekhyun's personality, and he's in love with that side too. It's just not the one he needs _now_.

"Chanyeol wait," Baekhyun calls, even if Chanyeol doesn't stop. "Park Chanyeol," he tries again. 

Chanyeol just hums as opens the car door on the driver's side and sits sideways, the steering wheel lightly touching his arm because Chanyeol is too big for the size of his Kia. He hides his face in his hands for a couple of seconds. _Everything is fine_ he repeats, like a mantra inside his head. He doesn't realize that Baekhyun has followed him until he can see the points of his shoes stopping in front of him. He's still wearing pink crocs, with a few charms on them, they're so ugly. He notices just now how dirty they are from the fire. There's a faint trace of blood on Baekhyun's ankle, it's not serious enough for Chanyeol to freak out, but it slaps him in the face. 

"Yeol." Baekhyun murmurs his name, Chanyeol reaches out to pull him closer from his waist and Baekhyun lets him. It's such an automatic gesture for them, and yet Chanyeol's heart decides on its own that today is special. He can feel his ears go red along with his face, as if he's never been this intimate with Baekhyun before.

He buries his face in Baekhyun's ruined scrub, holds on tighter when he can't find comfort in the scent of laundry, of Baekhyun's shower gel. He stinks of dust, smoke. One of Baekhyun's hands feels cold on his nape, hesitant at first. His bony fingers shake a little when they catch on Chanyeol's locks, the other hand cups the side of Chanyeol's face. 

"I was scared." Baekhyun finally says, his voice rougher than usual. "I'm still not sure if I want to cry. I'm… not okay." He adds after a while.

Chanyeol's gaze goes up, searching Baekhyun's eyes. They're still red, and Baekhyun forces himself to chuckle, lightly. He sounds so exhausted. "I know." Chanyeol exhales, slowly. "Hyun, you don't need to be unbreakable all the time, you know." Baekhyun's hand is still on his cheek when Chanyeol massages his lower back without really thinking. "Let's go home." Chanyeol suggests. 

Baekhyun finally gets into the car and takes a deep breath, his eyes closed. He seems relaxed; it’s over. He’s safe. Chanyeol, however, can’t get his eyes off the obvious stains on Baekhyun’s light blue scrub, the dirt on his neck and the palm of his hands. He feels restless, panicky almost. He feels the need to see Baekhyun in clean clothes, _any other_ clothing. 

In the end he makes Baekhyun get rid of the dirty scrub, in the front seat, and somehow manages to pull out a tattered t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts for him to wear from his soccer bag in the car boot.

"It stinks." Baekhyun complains, but he seems a lot more relieved as he burrows in the passenger seat wearing Chanyeol's clothes. 

 

He talks a lot on the way back, about how the fire started in the OR next to the one where he was working, how he helped people escape. And Chanyeol listens, he asks questions when needed, until Baekhyun seems to run out of words and Chanyeol drives in silence. It's comfortable.

 

It's raining outside when Baekhyun comes out of the shower wearing one of Chanyeol's sleeping outfits. It's just a t-shirt, black, not exactly new. And it confuses Chanyeol, how much Baekhyun prefers wearing his clothes, sometimes stealing them, sometimes changing into them as soon as he steps inside. It's routine. He kisses Chanyeol against the door, taking his shirt off first, then his pants, his socks. He leaves a trail of clothes behind. Chanyeol had thought he didn't like it, at first, the way Baekhyun carelessly tosses clothes on the floor. Chanyeol who likes things to be neat had initially hated how Baekhyun makes even clothes on the floor look interesting. Somehow he still finds himself being turned on whenever Baekhyun does it. When he drops his brief and turns around to glance at him, not smiling or anything. Just a quick glance, and Chanyeol is a goner.

He’s a goner even now, sitting cross legged on his bed while distractedly watching TV, the back of his mind stuck on Baekhyun, who takes his sweet time drying his hair with a towel, checking his phone. He’s there, and he’s not doing anything special, not really, yet Chanyeol feels drawn to him nonetheless. There’s some music program on TV. Twice has won something, apparently and while Chanyeol positively hates their song, he finds himself singing to it quite often because Baekhyun sings it first. It’s like a curse. 

He’s humming to it even now, his voice low. Baekhyun chuckles, circling the bed. “I thought you hated that song,” he says, amused, his eyes just briefly leaving his phone screen. 

“I hate it.” Chanyeol replies, and he doesn’t bring himself to add _but you love it_ , to justify himself. “I warmed up some _juk_ for you.” he says instead, and Baekhyun makes one of his appreciative sounds from the back of his throat before finally tossing his phone on the mattress.

“I’m not sick, Yeol,” he dares to complain, picking up the bowl Chanyeol has left on the floor. “But it’s what I needed I guess.” There’s something different about Baekhyun, about the way he smiles with his gaze cast low. Chanyeol doesn’t reply, he just brushes his fingers against Baekhyun’s ribcage, slowly.

Chanyeol doesn’t need to reach out for Baekhyun to sit between his legs, his back flush against Chanyeol’s chest as they watch TV. Everyone in the program is smiling so bright, even their outfits glimmer under the stage lights. It’s really distant from the reality Chanyeol is used to, really different from the view of the city he has everyday.

Baekhyun hisses and Chanyeol can feel him jolt. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Baekhyun is already placing the bowl on the mattress. 

“I dropped some. Fuck it burns..” He chuckles, and he collects the dropped porridge from his thigh with his fingertip. “Want some?” He’s still smiling while craning his head back, enough to stick his finger into Chanyeol’s mouth. “It’s good, isn’t it?” He asks, making it sound more sexual than it is. Chanyeol sucks on his fingertip and Baekhyun laughs, louder. “Kinky.” He stares at Chanyeol more amused than accusatory.

Chanyeol groans, as he presses a kiss into Baekhyun’s shoulder. “You’re an idiot. You go through a fucking fire and come back just fine, but you burn yourself with porridge.” He pauses, holds onto him a bit tighter, encasing Baekhyun’s legs between his. “Can’t you just be more careful?” He asks, his words muffled against the fabric of Baekhyun’s t-shirt. Baekhyun smells like Chanyeol’s laundry detergent, his shampoo and shower gel. It’s familiar and Chanyeol has gotten used to it.

“What do I do with you?” Chanyeol whispers. 

Chanyeol’s hands automatically search for Baekhyun's thigh, the blip of orange just under the curve of his ass. He can't see the tattoo, but he knows the position by heart, follows its lines with his fingertips. It’s Baekhyun, somehow. Apparently common and small but strong, lively, unique. 

"You do me..." He hears Baekhyun say, decisive. He lets out a breathy laugh, as he feels his heart— and dick— catch up with Baekhyun’s words.

"Actually I was expecting you to..you know..." Chanyeol says, brushing his lips against Baekhyun's nape, close to his hairline. "Or we can just do nothing at all, Hyun. We had a shitty day." 

Baekhyun lets his head hang low for a second, the shakes it weakly. "I've never said it, right?" He asks. Chanyeol only has the time to raise an eyebrow in doubt, the what never escapes his mouth.

"I've never told you I love you." He clarifies, and Chanyeol goes tense, his eyes fixed on the tv screen. 

"But I do. I love you." Baekhyun repeats. 

His hand goes to rest on Chanyeol's one, on his thigh. It's an awkward position, but Baekhyun doesn't seem to mind.

Twice are singing their encore on TV when Baekhyun turns his head to search for Chanyeol's eyes. "I thought you..needed some time." Chanyeol stutters, he feels his face heat up when Baekhyun smiles, gorgeous, charismatic, endearing. There’s plenty of adjectives Chanyeol would use for that smile. Today, though, it feels like it's just a façade, Chanyeol can tell the difference.

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything after that, his brows furrowed. His thumb follows the lines of the veins on Chanyeol’s hand, now on his lap. "Hyun, what are you thinking?" He wraps his hand around Baekhyun’s, and it’s supposed to be encouraging for Baekhyun, it’s supposed to be Baekhyun clinging onto him, considering how he almost died today. Chanyeol, though, he’s nervous, he can’t control himself, his feelings. He wonders if the grip on Baekhyun’s hand is too tight. He lets go, just a little.

“I love you. I’m thinking that I love you.” 

Baekhyun locks his fingers with Chanyeol’s, brings his hand to his lips, kisses his knuckles. 

“That I was an idiot not saying it before. Hell I almost died today, and I love you.” 

Chanyeol chuckles, then he nods, his nose against Baekhyun’s nape. 

“Yeol why aren’t you saying anything?” Baekhyun’s voice breaks, and for a moment he sounds nervous himself. Insecure. 

Chanyeol lets him go for a second, only to push him down on the mattress. He presses his forehead against Baekhyun’s, breathes in. “I can’t believe you had to tell me that you love me with Twice singing _TT_ in the background.” He murmurs, offended. 

“I was looking for the best soundtrack, what do you think?” Baekhyun’s eyes drops to his lips, and Chanyeol shakes his head with a smile. 

“I love you too.” He murmurs.

 

"Did you do everything you needed to?" Chanyeol asks, as Baekhyun shifts on the duvet letting the t-shirt lift just a bit, enough reveal his abs, his hipbones. He makes an art of it, making it look casual, even though the finger hooking to the hem of the t-shirt to lift it a bit more is anything but. Chanyeol drinks him in, every detail. From the way his eyes reflect the dim light of the TV, to his lightly tanned skin on the sheets. His hair is too long, it parts in the middle and Baekhyun has a way of carding his fingers through his hair that makes Chanyeol crave him even more. 

"Yeah." Baekhyun replies, idly, as his fingers hook on the elastic of his briefs. 

"And you still want me?" Chanyeol asks. He's caging Baekhyun's shoulders with his arms already. When Baekhyun pinches his ass, he grins.

"You have no idea." Baekhyun whispers, his breath puffing on Chanyeol's skin. He's the one to tilt his head just slightly and kiss him, as if memorizing the shape of Chanyeol's lips. Chanyeol presses his fingers against his skin, following the ladder of Baekhyun’s ribcage first, then the shape of his hips to the hollow of his back, just because he can. Because he loves feeling Baekhyun shiver, as he presses himself against Chanyeol for more contact, more skin, more of him really. His hands gripping on Chanyeol's shoulders. 

He's still tense when Chanyeol stops to nuzzle against his jaw. "What are you nervous about?"  
Chanyeol asks, nibbles at Baekhyun's neck, and Baekhyun just shakes his head, almost shy. 

"Screwing up everything,” he admits as Chanyeol peels away his shirt completely and looks him in the eyes. 

“We will, probably.” And Chanyeol doesn’t sound really reassuring. “But I don’t really care.” Baekhyun frowns, yet he locks his legs around Chanyeol’s hips, pushes down with a weak moan.

It’s not the first time they’ve done it like this, with Baekhyun flushed and panting beneath Chanyeol, asking him to hurry, to do more. Chanyeol thought he would be used to it by now, to the way Baekhyun gasps when he does something right, the way his fingers feel when they card through Chanyeol's hair as he kisses Baekhyun stomach first, then his hips, then lower, lower. He’d thought he would be used to the details, to the weight of Baekhyun's leg on his shoulder, his _go slow_ , and his shaky laugh, his frustrated moan when Chanyeol has to stop and sneeze right when Baekhyun is about to come.

He’d thought he gotten used to it, and in some ways he has. He knows the way he needs to slick Baekhyun's hair back with both hand, in order to kiss his temples as he thrusts faster. He knows the curve of his neck, and he's used to Baekhyun arching his back to meet him halfway, panting in his mouth. He knows the noises Baekhyun makes, how his legs tremble when he's close.

The _I love you_ s whispered against his lips, though, those are new. They make Chanyeol's senses go haywire, his heart beat faster. They make him want more of Baekhyun, need more of Baekhyun. He finds himself wondering if he's always felt this much. 

He doesn't expect Baekhyun to search for his hand, to force Chanyeol to lock his arm with his as if he wants him closer, as if they aren't flush one against the other already. 

_Is this ok?_ Chanyeol asks as he sneaks one hand under Baekhyun's belly so he can feel the curve of his body under him, warm and almost too sticky. He stamps kisses down his spine, ignoring how Baekhyun's sweat tastes salty against his lips.

"Feels good," Baekhyun chants as his breath becomes more shallow, Chanyeol's forehead presses against his shoulder.

 

"Have you gone mental?" Baekhyun stops on the doorstep of the attic, his face an unreadable mix between confused and horrified. His eyes go from the empty apartment, windows on one side only, carton boxes and utensils still scattered everywhere on the floor, to Chanyeol, who's fidgeting with his car keys, right in the middle of the room. "You're fucking with me right now aren't you?" Silence follows the question and Baekhyun snorts, turning his head to the side.

Chanyeol bites the inside of his bottom lip, shakes his head, slightly. "Nope. It's… your… well _our_ place. If you want." He feels, and probably looks, like a kicked puppy right now. He swallows, dragging his gaze from Baekhyun, to the floor, and back to Baekhyun. His cheeks are on fire right now, and he can feel the point of his ears go warm as well. "A client abandoned the project while the place was being remodeled, so I started adapting it to what you'd like." He explains. He was excited when he'd picked up Baekhyun from the hospital earlier than usual today, and yet he's here being so nervous he might explode.

Suddenly the idea of building, well, _remodeling_ the whole place for Baekhyun sounds crazy; something nobody would ever do, considering Baekhyun and Chanyeol are not even a couple. 

“It started as a game. You drew that thing on a napkin in the kitchen at my place, remember… ?” He starts as Baekhyun slowly comes forward, hesitant but curious. He glances towards Chanyeol, he nods and the light in the foyer turns off automatically. “... and you were always complaining of how dark your place is, how much you like the sun.” 

There’s no sun in the attic at the moment, but the view on the highway is still breathtaking. It’s not even that big of a road, really, and the building is not that tall either. Yet Baekhyun seems enraptured. He ignores everything else in the room to stop in front of the window. Chanyeol follows him quietly. He stays silent for a few moments, his eyes on Baekhyun. The streetlights create shimmery speckles on his skin, like the scales of a snake. 

“Someone decided they didn’t want this place anymore,” he continues, nervous, as he lifts one arm to rest his forearm against the glass. Baekhyun glances up, just briefly. His face is still blank and Chanyeol can’t help but feel restless. He blabbers, he knows he’s blabbering, no matter how much he’s trying to sound calm and composed. “I had some money I needed to invest. I invested it here.”  
It’s only partially true. He could’ve invested in other apartments that didn’t need remodelling, he could’ve bought stocks, he could’ve one a lot of things, and he chose to turn the place into Baekhyun’s dream apartment.

Silence. 

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Chanyeol blurts out, taking a step back, one hand running through his hair. He knows he did something really stupid, he knows he always ends up overdoing it when he’s in love with someone. He knows because he’s been dumped way too many times for that exact reason. 

“I… don’t know what to say,” Baekhyun murmurs, perplexed. He furrows his brow, turns around to take a better look at the place. Baekhyun is so transparent sometimes, Chanyeol can read him so well. Today, though, he’s decided to be cryptic all of a sudden. Or maybe it’s just Chanyeol being so anxious to get his opinion that he can’t read him at all. “How much was this place anyway? Is it did you pay for the deposit? Are you renting it?” Baekhyun keeps asking questions, while peeking into boxes, snooping around the boards and the utensils, lifting plastic cloths.

“It’s technically the firm’s.” Chanyeol stops following him after almost bumping into his shoulder. He stays still, leaning against a wall. “It’s my name on the contract, and my firm’s name if that’s what you’re asking.” He shrugs, makes it sound like it’s not a big deal. It must be a big deal to Baekhyun though. 

“You’ve gone mental, I swear to God,” he repeats, each word would be like a slap to Chanyeol’s face if Baekhyun weren’t trying to suppress a smile. Chanyeol notices how his mouth crooks a bit, and he suddenly can tell. “What you did was really stupid.” Baekhyun walks the distance between them, he takes his time, his fingers lingering on open boxes and furniture still in construction. “Who buys a house for the guy he’s been fucking for a year, Parkchan?” 

Chanyeol blinks a couple of times at the nickname, his shoulder hunching slightly on reflex. He smiles, a bit embarrassed and a bit grimacing, because Baekhyun is right. He’s right, and he’s used the word _fucking_ again. Chanyeol decides to ignore it, shaking his head in defeat as he formulates a response. Omitting the info Baekhyun wants, on purpose. Baekhyun doesn’t need to know how much he paid. Not now at least. “Well...” He pauses, one dramatic yet nostalgic panoramic of the attic. “It can still go back to the firm, it will be worth a lot of money once it’s completed.” 

Baekhyun follows Chanyeol’s glance, playing with the hem of the light blue shirt he’s wearing. “The bricks... and the windows...” He moves closer to Chanyeol, his pinky finger finding its way to Chanyeol’s palm as Baekhyun’s forehead rests against the other’s shoulder. “... and red bathroom tiles. Even the kitchen isn’t tacky.” He stops. His fingers intertwine with Chanyeol’s, and Chanyeol squeezes back. He turns his head to plant a kiss on Baekhyun’s crown, his hand reaching for Baekhyun’s nape. 

“You.. what do I do with you now?” Baekhyun asks. “I’ll have to marry you.” It sounds like there’s no other options and marrying is so so bad, but can’t be helped, they _have_ to marry.

“What?” Chanyeol’s jaw drops, and he pushes Baekhyun away enough to take a closer look at his face. “What are you saying now?”

Baekhyun nods, once again, sounding a bit dramatically annoyed. “We’ll have to go to... I don’t know, _Australia_ and get married.” 

Chanyeol chuckles. Baekhyun echoes his laugh and steps back, without dropping Chanyeol’s hand. He’s staring up at him like he’s in love, Chanyeol might now be able to handle it. “I just remodeled an apartment Hyun..” He suddenly feels very hot, very stupid and very in love. 

“You remodeled an apartment, Yeol,” Baekhyun repeats, makes it sound like it’s the coolest thing ever. He clears his voice. “Say it, you haven’t asked yet.” He prompts, more forcefully this time. Chanyeol doesn’t need to ask what. Baekhyun has a shit-eating grin on his face, his thumb distractedly strokes Chanyeol’s hand.

“You want me to be cheesy as fuck?” Chanyeol teases, one step closer to Baekhyun. He tries to sound flirty, but fails miserably. Baekhyun is just too charismatic for him to handle, his smiles too smug. 

“I want you to be cheesy.” Baekhyun confirms with a nod. “And then I’m gonna kiss you.” Chanyeol moves closer and Baekhyun’s hand comes to rest on his jaw. “And while we kiss I’m gonna discuss all the ways you’ll make love to me and I’ll make love to you once we get home.” 

Chanyeol’s heart skips once, then it does it again when he notices the slight blush on Baekhyun’s ears as well. “You didn’t say fuck” He points out. Baekhyun takes his eyes back, he concentrates on Chanyeol’s chest rather than his face. 

“I didn’t say fuck.” He admits, coily. “And what are you waiting for, exactly?” 

“Let’s move in together.” Chanyeol’s fingers brush against Baekhyun’s hand on his jaw. He tilts his head to kiss the mole on Baekhyun’s thumb. “What do you say?” 

Baekhyun scoots closer, Chanyeol is not sure they’ll make it home tonight. “Yeah. Let’s.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol has a passion for getting himself in trouble, especially when trying to rescue homeless animals on the way back from work. It doesn't always happen, and it's not like Chanyeol wants it to happen, but he seems to have a magnet for disaster. It always finds him, somehow, like that one time someone thought he was stealing their dog. Chanyeol has gotten used to it. He faces disaster with a smile— and a bit of a grimace, especially days like today when he winds up wounded.

"And how did you cut your arm again?" The doctor speaking to Chanyeol could be twenty for all he knows, if it weren’t for his blue scrub suggesting he's one of the interns here. He's checking Chanyeol's forearm up close, even though it's obvious it needs stitches. The cut is too deep for it to heal properly with time and a bandaid— Chanyeol was half planning to treat it that way.

He tried to bandage it the best he could with an old t-shirt while coming to the hospital, obviously after making sure the kitten was safe. "There was a wounded cat near a construction site." He starts. Gives a quick glance to his forearm and feels his stomach churn in disgust. "I tried to rescue it, but I ended up cutting myself on a shard of glass I didn’t notice." Chanyeol continues, as if rescuing kittens is routine for him. It is, Chanyeol's friends don't even ask anymore, but Dr Kim Minseok or so the badge pinned on his white lab coat says— doesn't. He stares at Chanyeol for a couple of seconds, obviously trying to keep a straight face where anyone would laugh.

"A stray kitten." He repeats, as if trying to make sense of Chanyeol's words. Rescuing stray kittens is definitely not something that normal twenty seven year old males in Korea do as a hobby. Chanyeol nods, as his eyes wander in the room to keep his attention as far as he can from his bleeding arm. The intern with a monkey badge on the lapel of his lab coat is eyeing him a bit too attentively for it to be casual, while he's speaking to a nurse at the reception counter. He's cute, and he fits Chanyeol's type a lot more than Dr Kim does. His hands are nice, as he plays with a pen and keeps it spinning between thumb and index finger. His ass is even nicer— Chanyeol is a man, and he likes men. It's obvious that's a detail he would check out.

"Did you hear me when I said your could have tetanus?" Dr Kim raises his voice enough to have Chanyeol's attention again, and he could swear that Monkey Badge is grinning. He nods, anyway. He closes his hand in a fist, opens it again, and wonders why Dr Kim hasn't started doing his job yet. "I got a vaccine against that when I was younger. So I don't know how likely that’d be..."

The doctor interrupts him, he's smiling this time, finally grabbing tweezers and a suture kit. "Let me guess, more rescued animals?" He asks, and there's mirth in his voice. Chanyeol nods again, doing the thing where he bows his head and smiles, a bit shyly. Monkey Badge is obviously staring now, he looks amused.

"What was it that time?" Dr Kim asks again, pouring some disinfectant on the cotton swab. Chanyeol clears his voice, tries hard not to drag his eyes towards Monkey Badge. Chanyeol is a lot more timid than he wants to admit, and Monkey Badge looks too confident for his sake, with the grinning and everything. "A ferret."

"A ferret." Dr Kim repeats incredulous, and he's suddenly chuckling as he cleans the cut on Chanyeol's arm with a cotton ball. It burns, and Chanyeol hisses, trying to hide his pain with the shaking of his head. 

"Don't ask." He mutters, his voice low.

There's a lot of people in the hospital compared to what Chanyeol had expected. No one though, stands out like Monkey badge at the counter while he openly smiles, dazzling, to Chanyeol, finally meeting his eyes. He must have gotten great hair genes as well. His hair is tied at the back of his head in a half ponytail, messy, with a few colorful pins to keep the loose strands out of the way. Monkey badge is definitely handsome.

"Ok, now bear with me, the stitches might hurt. But you're a big guy. Please don't cry." Dr Kim Minseok pleads, and he sounds too serious for Chanyeol to stay calm. At least the wound has stopped bleeding.

He doesn't notice Monkey Badge and his beautiful hair approaching them, too focused on the needle Dr Kim is threatening to stab him with, and he can't help but jump when, looking up once more, he finds himself face to face with _the_ Monkey Badge. 

"I'm gonna stitch him up." He says, and his voice is nice too. Chanyeol’s never had a passion for doctors, but he's willing to change that, for this intern.

"Byun you're not...in..." Dr Kim looks confused as his eyes go from Chanyeol to Monkey Badge. Byun. Dr Byun. His eyes grow twice in size, as they seem to hold a silent conversation. Dr Byun just smiles, really, to the point where he starts looking scary. When he starts reaching for the needle, Dr Kim gives up. He sighs, and he ends up giving up the needle first, then the tweezers. "Dr Byun is in charge of the stitches today, so he'll do the job." He announces, and Dr Byun seems to shine.

"I'm Dr Byun Baekhyun." He half shakes, half holds Chanyeol's hand for longer than needed, still smiling. "I'll take care of you from now on." He says, as he cleans the wound once more."So rescuing a kitten, you said?" He asks, glancing up to Chanyeol. His eyes turn into crescents when he smiles, it makes him look young, hot as hell.

Chanyeol swallows, as he bites down on his cheek trying to hide the fact that the wound still burns. "Yeah, it was really small. It looked like it wasn't moving, so..." He stops, his jaw dropping and his hand gripping on Byun Baekhyun's lab coat before he can notice what he's doing. The needle comes in unexpectedly, and it hurts a lot more than expected. But Chanyeol is a man, and men don't cry in front of another hot man.

"It sounds like a scene from a superhero movie," Dr Byun keeps going, keeps trying to get Chanyeol's attention on him rather than on his arm. The needle pierces the skin, Chanyeol focuses on the beauty mark on Baekhyun's cheek. "You know when the old lady's cat gets on the tree..." He looks really concentrated, his brow furrowed. Chanyeol thinks he can handle a bit of pain after all.

"I think I know, yeah." He breathes in, closes his eyes. Dr Byun even smells nice, like laundry detergent. Chanyeol wouldn't notice otherwise, but the scent is overwhelming. The needle goes through one more time, Chanyeol goes tense for a second, the sensation overwhelming. 

Dr Byun must notice, because he keeps asking questions. "So what do you do? As a job I mean." He pauses. Chanyeol squints one eye to see him bite on his tongue, trying to get the thread neatly through the cut. "Except from rescuing kittens and pet ferrets and almost getting tetanus as a hobby."

Chanyeol snorts, involuntarily shifting. The doctor keeps him steady, one hand on his bicep. "I can't get tetanus, you guys did a great job with that vaccine last time." Chanyeol playfully remarks, and it’s Baekhyun’s turn to snort now. 

_bullshit_ he whispers. Chanyeol decides to ignore him, but they do exchange one more flirty -yes, Chanyeol is old enough to notice when someone is hitting on him- glance.

"I'm an architect." He reveals, hoping it sounds cool— hoping this intern is really flirting with him and he’s not just imagining things.

 

"Tough job though, huh? Mr Park Chanyeol, architect?" He smirks as what it seems to be the last of the stitches passes through Chanyeol’s skin. "Can't you guys make bigger windows for places in our country?" The doctor asks, apparently out of the blue. 

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow, a bit taken aback. “Windows?” He repeats, unsure. “And also, is this supposed to hurt this much or you’re hurting me on purpose?” 

Dr Byun’s fingers stop for a moment. Chanyeol relaxes, lets out a breathy laugh, trying not to move this time. "I’m joking, Dr Byun. Windows need space, half of the buildings in this country are ratholes.” He explains with a shrug. “Why windows, anyway?”

"I just like the sun,” Dr Byun hints a smile while binding Chanyeol’s arm with some gauze and securing it, fast and precise. “And I'm the best stitcher in this hospital, ask anyone." 

Chanyeol nods, but he can’t help the smile pulling up his lips. "Is that supposed to be something to brag about, Dr Byun?" 

"It is. Mr Park, it is.” He finally lets Chanyeol’s arm go, and maybe it’s just Chanyeol’s imagination, but Dr Byun’s fingers linger there one instant longer. “Now you're all set and done." 

 

Chanyeol half expects to get Dr Byun’s number when he goes to sign his papers at the reception counter, and he’s a bit disappointed when that doesn’t happen. Chanyeol is shy, he doesn’t flirt often and he’s a bit of a loner. He shrugs it off on the way back, after checking on the kitten curled up on the back seat of his car. 

What he doesn’t expect, is for Sehun to find Dr Byun’s business card in Chanyeol’s jumper, while he pets the kitten all sprawled on his lap.

_Me. You. Tomorrow, 9pm.  
Call me._

 

-

Light filters through the curtains from the windows of the love motel Baekhyun has recommended last night, after a wild billiard game and two table tennis matches. Chanyeol had won all of them, and Baekhyun is a sore loser. Chanyeol has learned this in only a few hours. He still feels tipsy as he stumbles back to the bed, half leaning against the bathroom door. Baekhyun is lying down on his tummy in all his naked glory, his legs tangled up in the white duvet despite the air conditioning blasting in the room.

He looks sleepy as he checks his phone, his eyes keep falling closed the more Chanyeol just stands at the entrance, staring. He’s got food, something warm to drink. He’s paid a few more hours at the reception desk, mostly because Baekhyun looks like he needed more sleep, but also because he’s positively spent. 

Baekhyun tilts his head to the side, his eyes almost closed, when the mattress dips, announcing Chanyeol’s presence on the bed. "Where did you go, again?" Baekhyun’s voice is slurred with sleep, and he shifts, curling around Chanyeol’s torso until his head is resting on Chanyeol thigh. 

Chanyeol is an expert at one night stands, of awkwardness in the morning and empty rooms where he’s left alone with a few used condoms and a bad headache. Today it feels cozy, though, from Baekhyun’s bed head to the trace of drool down his chin— he must have fallen asleep with his mouth open. Even the duvet is warm, no matter how strong the air conditioning is blowing directly on Chanyeol’s face. 

"You can sleep a bit more." A few hairs stick to the side of Baekhyun’s cheek, and Chanyeol feels the need to brush them away. He leans in, places a kiss against his temple, then the side of his neck.

Cozy. Domestic, almost. Chanyeol could probably do this again, he wouldn’t hate it.

Baekhyun groans, craning his head. He cups Chanyeol’s face with one hand, pushes a bit until he can kiss him slowly. Chanyeol is used to a lot more tongue and a lot less lips, but Baekhyun likes slow and cozy much more than hurried and lustful, apparently. 

Chanyeol doesn’t hate that either. 

"What about doing it again?" Baekhyun whispers, tentatively reaching under the duvet where Chanyeol knows he’s hard and ready for another round, even if it’s only been a few hours since they did it, even if Baekhyun is more asleep than awake right now.

"You said you were working for two days...” Chanyeol mumbles, his hand covers half of Baekhyun’s nape. He massages there a bit, and Baekhyun groans, squishing his face against Chanyeol’s crotch. Baekhyun likes cozy, and he really doesn’t mind being explicit and blunt. That, Chanyeol isn’t sure if he likes or not. 

“Where do you find the energy?" He asks to distract himself, and he squeezes just under his neck once more. Baekhyun shivers, goosebumps on his shoulders as he laughs. _It feels weird_ he breathes out. "I'm spent, Hyun you're tired. Let's just rest a bit." 

Dragging Baekhyun to lie on his side, next to him, is a lot easier than Chanyeol had thought. He curls around Chanyeol, molds against him like water, his face hidden under Chanyeol’s chin. Baekhyun stays quiet for a while, before he whispers, "let me kiss you," and tilts his head up to kiss Chanyeol’s chin more than his lips.

“I half expected you to leave in the morning," Chanyeol says directly against Baekhyun’s skin. "Less burden, you know."

 

"I could've,” Baekhyun admits, even though he squishes himself into Chanyeol’s arms. “But I liked it."

 

"More like you liked the room." Chanyeol pinches his hip, first, then rests his hand there. It’s warm, and Baekhyun is softer than expected in a few places. 

"I liked the room, it's true," Baekhyun admits, as Chanyeol drags his hand up and down his back, and Baekhyun mirrors the action against Chanyeol’s spine.

"I liked the sex,” Chanyeol announces, and he untangles himself from Baekhyun ignoring his totally unhappy expression. “Am I going to see you again?" Chanyeol asks grabbing the ball pen next to the condom box on the bedside table, as Baekhyun goes back to lying on his tummy.

"You are,” He answers, smiling in the crook of his arm. “What are you doing?"

Chanyeol doesn’t reply immediately. He munches on the cap of the pen while Baekhyun tries to turn his head enough to see. He doesn’t. Yet he seems calm as he allows his eyes to close again.

 

"I'm an architect.” Chanyeol notes. “I'm the best sketcher of my firm. Ask anyone." He smiles, and he can see Baekhyun smile into his crossed arms. 

"Just don't write insults on my ass, thank you."

The shape of the goldfish is just an awkward blob under Baekhyun’s asscheek right now, but Chanyeol hadn’t been joking when he’d said he can draw. And he has an image in mind.

"I won't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it.
> 
> I really hope you like this fic and give it some love. It just wrote itself so I'm not sure about how much the plot makes sense, but I like it despite it being not perfect. 
> 
> • I know it's highly unlikely for an architect in Korea to have the money to buy an apartment for his almost lover, but Chanyeol in this fic was too in love and I wanted him to do crazy things for Baekhyun. So yeah, crazy apartment remodeling.  
> • The architect firm where Chanyeol works is real. As much as is Baekhyun's hospital in Sillimdong and the dagkalbi place where Chanyeol and Sehun go eat.  
> • Random bonus info. Sehun adopts the cat, if it's not clear enough.  
> • I mainly used four songs when writing this fic, and here they are [cliq!](https://open.spotify.com/user/polunochnaja/playlist/3FPfsydb3iJA2ULQQTELsJ)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this fic, ever if it's nothing special.  
> Your comments always make me happy so please tell me what you think about it :)  
> And come say hi on my twitter @/roseygrid I love to chat!


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